


His Belladonna Kiss

by Mae (mae1505)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Hadestown au - Fandom, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Clueless Simon, Multi, So yeah, adorable baz, anyway, au i guess, based of off the musical hadestown, baz is orpheus, but i'll still cover them so dont worry, but with a plot change, check it out, controlling davy, davy is hades, ebb is hermes, enjoy it please, erm, except me obviously, i listened to hadestown exclusively whilst writing this, kinda be an issue if i didnt, lucy is persephone, maybe slightly graphic, nothing major, obviously knowing the hadestown relationships will help, oh right, penny agatha and micah are the fates, simon is eurydice, so nobody knows the ending, the mage isnt simons dad, the others are workers, what else?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae1505/pseuds/Mae
Summary: Hadestown... except I'm putting Carry On into it so here are your characters (though Simon will still be called Simon and shit, this is just who they are in terms of the play):- Simon Snow is Eurydice- Baz is Orpheus- Penny, Agatha and Micah are the Fates- Ebb is Hermes- The Mage is Hades- Lucy is PersephoneAnd there will be plot changes so don't think you know the ending if you love Hadestown! Enjoy!





	1. On the road to hell there was a railroad line...

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy guys I was just sitting there and Hadestown was playing and I was sleep deprived... next thing I know I'm drafting out a plot. I've said it already but the plot will be changed, so the ending won't be the ending of Hadestown (though I'm not saying it won't be tragic) and you don't really need to love Hadestown to enjoy the fic, it just gives me a starting point and a very basic plot outline. Hadestown, for all you peeps that don't know, combines the myths of Hades/Persephone and Orpheus/Eurydice, from Greek mythology, and then puts it into an industrial underworld factory. great musical, so go listen if you want, but for now enjoy!

There were three of them, black cloaks blowing in the wind, faces narrowed, eyes glinting with a darkness that seemed almost alive in comparison to the miserable shadows of the dirty road they were walking along.

They were the Fates, and they were always singing in the back of your mind. Listen hard, you can hear them, if you pay close enough attention.

“There ain't a thing that you can do when the weather takes a turn on you.” The girl with swirling blonde hair pulled her cloak tighter against the swirling storm. The other girl, with tight purple curls, elbowed her lightly. “'Cept for hurry up and hit the road, any way the wind blows.” She gestured up to the sky. “Wind comes up..”

The lone boy in the group pushed his glasses up his nose. “When your body aches to lay it down, when you're hungry and there ain't enough to go round, ain't no length to which a girl won't go.” He sighed. “Any way the wind blows…”

Yeah, I’ve had enough of this. I walked up to three and pushed my way in between the two girls. “Jesus, you people. How miserable do you think this story is?”

“Ah, Ebeneza.” The blonde one sighed again. “Come to try and convince us that there’s a ray of sunlight out there? It won’t work.” 

“On the contrary, my dear Agatha, there’s always sunshine.” I smile. “We are God’s, aren’t we? So cheer the fuck up and lets give these people some introductions.” 

We all moved to the side as a young man, bronze curls blowing chaotically in the wind, cloak gripped tightly, made his way down the road. He didn’t see us, because he wasn’t a dreamer, and only dreamers have the time to notice the like of God’s. 

“Simon Snow.” Penelope murmured. “He’s a hungry young man, a runaway from everywhere he’d ever been.” 

“He’s no stranger to the world, no stranger to the wind.” Micah finished, and turned to look at me. “What say you to that, Ebb? Or as some mortals call you, Hermes.” 

“A ridiculous name.” I say, listening hard to the broken voice that carries in the wind. Simon Snow sighs, much like the Fates often do, and tips his face towards the sky. “The weather ain't the way it was before, ain't no spring or fall at all anymore.” he mutters. “It's either blazing hot or freezing cold, any way the wind blows…” 

“He sounds a lot like you Agatha.” I observe. “Completely hopeless.” 

“Oh, and you would know?” She shoots back. “At least he knows the way the world works. Where’s that apprentice of yours anyway?” 

“He’s learning of the glorious world beyond your pitiful misery.” I wave my hands in the air and the image of a train appears, blowing coal-black steam out of it’s many chimneys. A woman stands at one of the open doors, carrying a suitcase and wearing a green dress dusted with coal dust. “A lady steppin’ off a train.” I say, and the woman bows with a coy smile. “With a suitcase full of summertime, Lucy, by name.” 

“I thought she changed her name to Persephone.” Micah muses. “It has a nicer ring to it.” 

I shush him and wave my hand again. Lucy leaves the train and it pulls away, shooting further and further down the track until it stops by a man in an indigo and grey striped suit. “If you ride that train to the end of the line, where the sun don't shine and it's always shady, it's there you'll find the king of the mine. Almighty Mr. Hades!” The man bows and the images vanish from the air. I turn back to the Fates and smirk. 

“We got any other gods? Oh, right, almost forgot…” I bow long and low. “ On the road to Hell there was a railroad station, and a girl with feathers on her feet who could help you to your final destination. Miss Ebeneza, that's me!” I laugh when Penelope kicks me in the shin. “Your name is ridiculous.” She frowns. “This is a sad song and a sad tale Ebb.” 

We all turn when we hear the sound of another figure running down the road. A boy, carrying a violin and actually _ smiling _, unlike the rest of these miserable cretins. “Oh dear, you taught him happiness.” Agatha oozes in a voice full of contempt. “I feel bad for the poor boy.”

“Please, this boy is something special.” I look over at the young man, black hair down by his shoulders, pale skin shining in the weak sunlight. “Now Baz was the son of a Muse, and you know how those Muses are.” The three nod, looks of distaste evident on their face. “Sometimes they abandon you.” Penny finishes for me.

“This poor boy, he wears his heart out on his sleeve, you might say he was naïve to the ways of the world.” Agatha looks pointedly at me. But I ignore her. 

“But he had a way with words, and the rhythm and the rhyme, and he sang just like a bird up on a line…” Memories cloud my head, of a baby in blankets and a woman walking slowly away up into the sky. “And it ain’t because I’m kind, but his mama was a friend of mine. And I like to hear him sing, and his way of seeing things, so I took him under my wing.” I smile softly as Baz sways slightly, lost in the music he’s creating.

“Poor poor child. Doomed to fail.” Micah sighs and flaps his cloak. “What did he deserve to end up with you as a surrogate mother?”

“At least I protect him from your pointless misery, ay Mic?” I grab the girls by their sleeves and surprisingly they don’t pull away. “Now come on girls, oh and you too Micah, let’s grab some popcorn and watch this unfold.” 

“You are completely and utterly childish.” Agatha sniffs, but she fades into the background with the rest of us. “And just so you know, I don’t support this one bit.”

“What do you expect to come from this, huh Ebb?” Penelope sighs. “Mortals don’t like change, and they hate not knowing what will come next. Simon can’t just put his heart out on his sleeve like your protogee can, he’s seen too much cruelty.”

“You will bring them both nothing but heartache.” Micah scolds. “You can’t fix every problem with love. This isn’t a fairytale, it doesn’t start with once upon a time and end in happily ever after.”

“Oh, it doesn’t?” I scoff. “Enlighten me then, what does this story start with.”

Agatha glares at me and opens her mouth reluctantly. “There were three of them, black cloaks blowing in the wind -”

“Oh alright, you’ve made your point.” I mutter. “Everything starts and ends with you and your misery, I get it.” I fix all three with a look. “Don’t you _ ever _ want to just experiment? See what happens if you change up routine a little?”

“We are God’s Ebeneza.” Penelope seems almost sad as she tells me this, I always liked her best after all, she seems the most _human_. “We have a duty to these mortals, you guide them and we map their deaths. Neither of our duties allow much time for either love _ or _ happiness.”

“Tell me, would you be happy if all you did, every day, was record death after death after death?” Micah asks. 

“Can we please not be depressing for, like, two seconds, and watch these two?” I glare at all three of them. The shadows fall silent. “Right, thank you.”

I turn back to the road, where Baz still has his eyes closed, swaying with the music. Simon hasn’t stopped to listen, no surprises there, but he has slowed. And if they just keep walking at this pace not paying attention then…

Baz suddenly crashes into Simon and looks up startled. I can see in his grey eyes the exact moment his heart starts to beat faster, as the hunched figure turns around and stares at him.

And I swear, just for a single moment, there’s a connection so powerful that even the depressed fucks alongside me could feel it. 

There’s _ love _.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can promise you all that there will be no chance of a regular update schedule (im a lovely person ;p ) but you won't be waiting for, like, a month. Maybe. Anyway, comments and kudos are appreciated to feed my ego and make my lonely soul feel loved, and you can find me on tumblr so [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)


	2. Your name is like a melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If music be the food of love, play on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy I'm back and guess who's avoiding chores by writing fics? I've churned out two chapters already for two different ones and I'm a'working on a third so yeah, lifes fun. Enjoy the chapter!

I walk over, leaving the Fates in the shadows of loneliness. Simon stares at Baz, come on come, I think, accept it, accept that you love him.

But the boy turns away, leaving Baz half-crouched in the dirt. 

“You wanna talk to him?” I ask, kneeling down beside baz and placing my hand on his shoulder. I can see the light in his eyes, the spark that was set ablaze when he first learned to make music, and now will keep burning through love.

I’m no hopeless romantic. But there’s something here, and I’m going to make sure Baz gets a happy ending. He deserves it. The _ world _ deserves it.

“Yes.” He whispers, and stands, pushing his black hair back from his eyes and staring longingly after the retreating figure. I push him forwards slightly.

“Go on then.” Baz begins to half-walk, half-run towards Simon, and I hear an amused chuckle come from Agatha’s direction. She pops into existence beside me. “Absolutely hopeless.” She sighs.

“Oh, and Baz!” I call out. He turns to me, and I could put up with all the sadness in the world just to see that look in his eyes. “Don’t come on too strong.” I smile.

He nods, and continues running until he’s walking alongside Simon. I grip Agatha’s arm and pull her along with me until we’re just beside them. Penny and Micah appear too, one looking pissed and one looking bemused.

Baz grips Simon’s arm, and I sigh. “Guess he didn’t heed your warning.” Penny observes.

“Come home with me.” Baz says. 

Simon recoils in shock. “Who are you?” He says, and attempts to pull his arm out from Baz’s grip. But that boy has the strength of a python when he wants something.

“I’m the man who’s gonna marry you.” Baz smiles, and damn does that boy have some charm. I certainly didn’t teach him that. “I’m Baz.”

“Is he always like this?” Simon looks over at the four of us. “Is your son insane?”

“Insane, no, but yes, he is always like this.” I say dryly. “And he’s not my son.”

“Well, erm, I’m Simon.” When he looks back at Baz, I can see the same thing pass through their gaze as before. _ Love _.

“Your name is like a melody.” Baz releases Simon’s arm but continues to smile just a brightly. And a little creepily. I walk round and put my hands on his shoulders. “Maybe tone it down a bit son. You look like a serial killer.”

Baz blinks, and lessens the grin slightly. Simon looks confused. “Are you a singer? 

“Well, I also play the violin. And occasionally the lyre…” Baz looks suddenly uncomfortable and rubs his hands over his arms. Simon tips his head back and hoots with laughter. “Oh, a liar, AND a player too! I’ve met too many men like you.”

Baz shakes his head violently, and I move back to stand with the Fates. Penny raises an eyebrow at me and very clearly mouths ‘I don’t think this was a good idea Ebb.’ I ignore her.

“Oh, no no, I’m not like them. My name is Basilton, after all.” he smirks. “How many men have you met called Basilton?”

A quick grin flashes across Simon’s face before he pulls it back into a frown. “What are you like then?”

Baz looks stumped. “You may want to help him out.” Penny whispers in my ear. Agatha and Micah vanish, but she stays. Always knew she was the best of ‘em. 

“He’s not like anyone you’ve ever met.” Penny suddenly offers, before casting me a meaningful look. 

Gods bless you, Penelope. 

“Tell him what you’re working on.” I say to Baz, my voice heavy with emphasis. He grips his violin tighter. “I’m working on a song, Simon.”

“A song?” Simon raises his eyebrows. “No time for songs. Songs don’t do anything for you.”

“This one does.” Baz has that tone in his voice, the dreamers tone. “This song will bring you back to the spring of your childhood.”

Simon doesn’t lower his eyebrow. Penny and I both sigh heavily. “It’s not finished yet.” Baz adds hastily. “But when I’m done, spring will come again.”

“Again?” Simon looks mightily confused. “What does that even mean.”

Baz takes his lyre and plays a quick note, testing it for something. He smiles. “When I play the song, I promise you that spring will come.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, spring isn’t around anymore.” Simon gestures at the ruined, dusty road, the withered trees. “I haven’t seen a spring since, well, I can’t recall…”

“But that’s what this song will do!” baz grips Simon’s hands in his. “It’s a song to fix what's wrong, take what's broken, make it whole. A song so beautiful, it brings the world back into tune. Back into time.”

“And all the flowers will bloom.” Simon murmurs to himself. I make a note of that reaction.

Baz suddenly drops to the floor, still holding Simon’s hands. “Will you marry me?”

“Is he aware you’re meant to propose on one knee.” Penny mutters into my ear. I shrug as Simon pulls his hands away and recoils again. “Oh, he’s crazy.” Simon’s voice drips with sarcasm, reminding me of Agatha again. “Why would I marry him.”

Baz looks both hurt and embarrassed, kneeling in the dirt. Simon looks confused and scared, casting his shadow over the black-haired boy. Penny looks sympathetic beside me in the shadows.

Good lord, must I do everything myself?

I place my palm on Simon’s shoulder, which I notice is trembling slightly. Scared of happiness, I realise.

“Maybe,” I say, “Because he’ll make you feel alive.”

Simon soften’s. “Alive?” he murmurs, then, to my surprise, he kneels down too. “That’s something, eh? So what else you got?”

The two share a soft smile, and suddenly Penny claps behind me. “Right, well, I guess we’ll need a wedding ceremony then.” Simon’s back straightens in shock. “Wait, I never agreed to any -”

But the magic of the Fates swirls around us (they do love a good wedding, especially the ‘till death do us part’ bit, because it’s the most fun to fulfill for them), and I throw in just a little bit of happiness in order to ensure that everything won’t be in black. 

* * *

The road is still a dirt road, but there’s a back archway adorned with red roses. Simon is in a black suit, Baz in a white one. Agatha is scowling as she sits beside Penny on a log, and Micah reluctantly holds a golden rope in his hands. “Should we give you some nice monk robes Mic?” I chuckle, and sit down next to Agatha. He scowls at me.

Simon looks around, bemused. Baz looks shocked. Micah reaches out the rope and holds it questioningly over the space between their hands. “This vaguely strikes me as forced marriage.” Micah muses.

Simon cocks his head at Baz. And then, with a smile in his voice, speaks. “Lover, tell me if you can; who's gonna buy the wedding bands? Times being what they are, hard and getting harder all the time.”

Baz crosses the space between them, and cups Simon’s cheek. “Lover, when I sing my song, all the rivers'll sing along. And they're gonna break their banks for us, and with their gold, be generous. All a-flashing in the pan, all to fashion for your hand.The river's gonna give us the wedding bands.”

“This is cute.” Penny whispers in my ear. “But can we get on with it already?”

“Patience, Penelope. I spent years searching for this boy. He’s the one.”

Both Penny and Agatha turn to look at me in shock. “I thought you said this was _ all for Baz _. This is about Lu -”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” I say. “This is about the song and what I know, what you _ all _ know, it can do. Baz needs love to finish it, so I brought his soulmate to him. There’s nothing else to say.”

They both sigh, and we turn back to the wedding ceremony, where Simon is standing with his hands crossed.

“So spring will come again, as soon as you sing this song?” He sounds skeptical, but Baz nods affirmatively. 

“So sing it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” Baz shakes his head. “It’s not finished yet.”

“Baz.” Simon raises his eyebrows. “I’ll only go with you if you sing the song.”

Baz turns abruptly to me. “Violin.” He says, eyes flashing. I wink at him and toss it over. 

He takes a deep breath and holds the violin to his chest, running his fingers over the strings. Then he opens his mouth, and starts to sing. 

“La la la la la la la...

La la la la la la la…” He sings softly, and something shifts in the trees around us. I start to see green buds pop up all over the branches. Other voices begins to slowly join in, echoing out from the swirls of green that appear all over the barren wasteland. 

“La la la la la la la...

La la la la la la la...

La la la la la la la…”

Leaves spring up all over the nearby trees, and if you look far enough, you can still see the dusty wasteland far beyond. But nobody’s looking; Agatha is fingering the green moss that’s appearing on the logs we’re sitting on. Micah is holding his hands up to catch the birds flocking to the fresh trees. Penny kneels to pick a flower form the grassy floor, tipping her head back in glee when she inhales it’s scent. 

Simon isn’t looking at the new scenes of nature though. He’s looking at Baz.

And then he grips him by the shoulders and kisses him fiercely, running his hands through the glowing black curls. 

**\- Baz’s point of view -**

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But something about Simon intoxicates me - when I first looked into his eyes, it was like magic. Pure magic. I mean, I knew I had _ some _ magic, my mother was a Muse after all, but my magic, well, the song, and that’s it…

I can’t think straight. Simon’s staring at me with his big blue eyes, in awe of what I just did, and then he leans forwards and kisses me.

My mouth opens in shock, and then I unfreeze and kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He sighs, and I’ve never felt this good before. I remember the first time I made music, and in my distracted mind it doesn’t even compare. 

_ Nothing could compare. _

**\- Simon’s points of view -**

I don’t know what I’m doing. This was _ not _ like me.

Today wasn’t meant to be any sort of day. I was leaving town, but then I crash into some boy that makes my heart stop like it’s never stopped before. I’ve been with girls, but never a boy, and I never felt for them. They were just, _ there _, and so was I.

And now here I am with four literal _ gods _ and said boy, who, oh did I forget to mention, is the son of a _ Muse _ and can literally bring back the _ spring _, and I’m kissing him.

I should stop. I _ need _ to stop.

_ But I can’t imagine ever stopping. _

**\- Normal narration -**

I clap my hands together after everyone begins to look both uncomfortable and (in the case of Penny) upset, and Simon and Baz break apart, embarrassed.

“Should I tie the rope now?” Micah stage-whispers in my direction. Agatha rolls her eyes at him.

Micah holds the golden rope over the clasped hands of the two boys and mutters something in Greek. The rope shimmers, then knots loosely around their wrists. “I don’t exactly know what I’m meant to say here, but congrats. You’re married.”

Simon and Baz share another kiss, and then Baz, with a smile on his face like I’ve never seen before, turns to me. I salute respectfully, then wave my hand and the rope vanishes into dust. 

Baz looks shyly back over his shoulder at Simon, then begins to sing. “The rivers gonna give us the wedding bands…”

Simon links his arm with Baz’s, then they walk past us down the road. I grin shamelessly, and not even the leaves slowly turning brown behind me, or the wedding scene dissolving into the air, could make me regret anything I’ve just arranged.

“Can’t you see it?” Agatha steps in front of me, gesturing to the now-withered and lifeless trees. “Spring will never last forever Ebeneza.”

“There are no happy endings.” Micah adds, before vanishing in a cloud of smoke.

Penny takes my hand in hers. “You know this Ebb, you understand what a broken heart can do. Nobody knows which way the wind will blow.

“You must remember; It’s a sad song, and a sad tale…”

* * *

I caught up with them soon enough, Penelope unwillingly tagging along because I needed to talk to Baz alone.

I pulled him aside. “Where did you get that melody, son?”

He looked up at me, fingering the violin. “I, I don't know Ebb. It just came to me. Do you know it?”

I smile. “Do you remember that tale I told you, long ago. About the gods, and the love that made the world go round?” He looks at me with a trace of confusion behind his eyes. “Hades and Lucy?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” I can see Simon and Penelope talking out of the corner of my eye. “Can you tell it again?”

He frowns, but begins to talk all the same.

“King of shadows, King of shades, Hades was king of the Underworld. But he fell in love with a beautiful lady who walked up above in her mother's green field. He fell in love with Lucy, who was gathering flowers in the light of the sun. And he took her home to become his queen where the sun never shone on anyone…”

The tale misses some stuff out, but the past isn’t to be dwelled on. “Go on.”

“The lady loved him and the kingdom they shared but without her above, not one flower would grow. So King Hades agreed that for half of each year

She would stay with him there in his world down below. But the other half, she could walk in the sun - and the sun, in turn, burned twice as bright, which is where the seasons come from. And with them, the cycle of the seed and the sickle and the lives of the people, and the birds in their flight, singing la la la la la la la…”

Simon appears next to Baz, smiling. “Where are we, Ebeneza?”

I shake the memories clear and smile at Baz. “The railroad station of course.”

* * *

“And on the road to hell there was a lot of waiting…”

“Waiting!” The crowd echo back, standing on the railroad platform, some even on the tracks far beyond because the train never goes past the last marker. 

“They’re waiting for the lady with a suitcase full of summertime.” I whisper into Simon’s ear, because he looks mightily confused. “These days she never stays too long but good things come to those who wait.”

Suddenly, a whistle, shrill and clear, echoes down the line. The people cheer, and I see Penny fall back into the shadows with Agatha and Micah. “Here she comes!” I yell, and step towards the train door, offering my arm to the woman who comes flying out in a dress of dandelions. She ignores me, though, and throws her arms into the air.

“Well, it’s like she said.” Lucy winks at me. “I’m an outdoor girl -”

“And you’re late again!”

“Married to the King of the Underworld -”

“She forgot a little thing called spring!”

“Yes, alright, Ebeneza!” Lucy claps her hands and ribbons swirl down, flowers blooming faster than they ever did for Baz’s song, tables of wine and the fruits of summer popping up all over the fields around the railroad line.

“Where you been?” Somebody calls out, raising a glass up to the lady. 

She smiles. “Oh honey, I’ve been to hell and back again. But it’s like my mama always said; brother when you're down, you're down, when you're up, you're up.

If you ain't six feet underground, you're living it up on top! Let's not talk about hard times, now pour the wine, it's summertime!”

* * *

Penny nudges me at one point during the festivities, and we both look over to Baz and Simon, sitting just off the way, shoulder to shoulder. 

Baz sits with his violin, and Simon leans his head onto the wide shoulders dusted by black curls. “Now there’s a boy who’s always run away.” She whispers to me. 

“Yes, well, you might say it’s in spite of himself that he’s deciding to stay.” I smile as they kiss. 

Baz shifts, so that his arm is around Simon, and puts his violin down in exchange for a goblet of wine, which he holds in the air towards Persephone. 

“To the patroness of all of this, Lucy. Who has finally returned to us with wine enough to share - asking nothing in return except that we should live and learn to live as brothers in this life, and to trust she will provide. And if no one takes too much, there will always be enough. She will always fill our cups,”

“I will.” Smiles the woman in the bright yellow sundress as she falls down next to me.

“And we will always raise them up.”

The crowd cheers, and the music starts up again, and people are dancing and laughing because it’s _ summer _, thank god. Took you long enough to get here.

So yeah, I know that this is a sad song. But lets not think about that right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww weren't that cute?
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	3. But now I wanna hold you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just read through the previous chapters and holy shit they looked a lot longer in a google doc. Whoops.
> 
> Oh well. This should be a little bit longer. And cuter. Even thought I can barely write any sort of romance. 
> 
> Let's try anyway, huh?

“Who is he?”

Lucy tips her goblet back and downs the dregs of wine, gesturing to Simon having what is remarkably not a one-sided conversation with Penelope. Maybe she could make a friend.

Poor girl needs a friend, what with being a Fate.

Is she a girl? I never quite understand how it all works. I was born a powerhouse, an immortal. 

But Penelope, she was born a Fate. She did love somebody, and then they died. She never got the choice. And as much as Micah is a slight dickhead and Agatha is practically the living embodiment of the pessimistic trait, I feel sorry for all of them.

“Ebb? Why did your little minion have a wedding band?”

“Shit, sorry. Erm -”

“Did the little poet get married?” Lucy raises her eyebrows and refills her wine glass from the tip of her finger (I guess being a spring goddess has it’s perks). “Wow. I never thought I’d see the day.” 

The she frowns. “He still seems to treat that lyre like it’s an extension of his body, though.” And sure enough, if I squint I can make out his outline heading into the trees, to go and work on the blasted song that’s stupidly necessary even though it’s not necessary right  _ now _ because it’s the middle of spring. 

“How long are you here, Lucy?” I ask, even though I don’t really want the answer. Spring is only here for as long as she is, because she never stays for summer.

“Don’t ruin the moment with depressing questions, Ebeneza. I asked you who he was.”

“Simon was a poor boy.” I watch him as he realises that Baz is nowhere to be seen. 

“He’d seen how the world was, but when he fell, he fell in spite of himself.” Simon runs into the woods, throwing the goblet he was holding to the ground.

“He fell in love, Lucy. That’s who he is.”

“He’s the one you’ve been searching for? Really?”

“Baz can’t finish the song without him. And Simon can’t keep living without Baz.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Lucy curls her lip, looking down at her wedding ring of black obsidian. I remember a time when it was gold. “Life can surprise you sometimes, especially when you make a promise spanning forever.”

* * *

**\- Simon’s point of view -**

“Baz!” I run through the woods, knowing that this time I got too involved to notice him sneaking off and then grab him back. 

“Simon?” I spin round when I hear his distracted tone, then find him pressed up against a tree trunk, hands on his lyre. “What’s happened? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I squat down in front of him and pluck one of the strings on the lyre. “I just didn’t know where you’d gone.

He frowns at me. “I just, you know, thought of something that might work…”

“How does it work?” I shimmy up next to him, so our shoulders are pressed together. “I mean, I know you’re the son of a muse, so that gives you special singing powers or whatever, but you’re still human so I don’t understand how your voice could literally make trees grow.”

“Special singing powers?” His voice is so dry it could be at home in a desert. “Are you aware of how fucking stupid that sounds?”

“Well, anyway. How does it work.”

“I, I mean, I don’t know.” He looks almost ashamed. “It just comes to me, as easy as breathing. The words, I mean. And then I guess nature does the rest. Ebb said to me once that it was an old god’s melody that I needed to find, if I wanted to bring back spring. And I guess I did.”

“Why?”

He laughs. “You’re like a small child, Simon. Always asking questions.” Baz sighs. “I really don’t know. I mean, my mum was a muse, and she abandoned me, but she didn’t want to. The God’s wouldn’t let her keep a normal human child because they saw no use for me, even if I was a half-immortal. So, if I do this -”

“Them maybe you’ll prove to them that you are worth it?” I take his hands in mine, because his eyes are wet and I really just want to hold his hand. 

It’s not like I’ve ever had somebody’s hand to hold before. It’s not like anybody’s sat with me, cried with me, and just  _ been _ with me in general.

“What about your parents?” Baz asks. 

My parents.

Where do I even start?

I don’t want to tell him everything. I don’t want him to think I’m pathetic, that I’m the reason for everything.

Because my parents were in love, or that’s what I was told, by the owner of the first and only home I’ve ever had. They’d found love in this miserable world, but they could barely get by as it is. My father sold things and was a travelling teacher, and my mother left her small town to go with him.

They could live happily, if a little poor, with two. But they couldn’t manage three.

When my mum found out she was pregnant, things changed.

She could have gotten rid of me, there were ways. Prayer. Sacrifice. Medicines. My father, with all his knowledge, knew many different methods. But my mother was a pious woman, and she knew the God’s frowned heavily on killing your family. She and my father wouldn’t escape into the lower Underworld, where the normal dead go, instead they’d be stuck as Hades’ servants.

My mum didn’t want that. So she refused every offer my father made. And eventually, my dad secured a cottage by taking my mother, at six months pregnant, back to her village, where only my uncle remained. He let them stay.

Except my mum died in childbirth. And my dad went insane. They said he’d hung himself, but they also said he’d drowned. Taken poison. Stabbed himself. Either way, he was dead by his own hand.

And they didn’t really spare any details, despite the fact that I was seven years old. 

I lived with my alcoholic uncle, until he died. And then I had nothing to stay for. I was thirteen.

I’ve been on the road ever since.

“They died.” I say. “And then my uncle died, so I left.”

Baz is looking at me with such sympathy. But he’d look at me differently if I told him the truth. They all looked at me differently, that village. They knew it was my fault. That everything was my fault.

“I’m so sorry Simon.” He pulls me into a hug, and I feel my stomach twist with guilt. I don’t deserve his pity. 

But I’ve been pretending forever.

“Listen, Baz.” I pull back and cup his cheek. “I. I can;t promise that I’ll be, you know, good at this. I, I was alone so long, I didn’t even realise I was lonely. Walking through roads in the cold for so long, I forgot that I was freezing. I just turned my collar to the wind, and that’s how it;s always been.

“Cause, all I’ve ever known is how to hold my own.”

“Simon -” Baz opens his mouth to speak, but I shush him. 

“No, wait, let me finish. Because, I’m scared. You, you take me in your arms and then there’s sunlight, all around me. Everything is so bright and warm and it’s never shined like this before. I can, I can forget, how dark and cold the world is.

“Because all I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now, now I wanna hold you.” My voice catches. “I don’t, I don’t want you to leave, and then I’ll have to let you go. I’ll have to go back to the lonely life.”

“Simon.” Baz puts his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m like I am, and I don’t know who I am that I should get to hold you. But, when I saw you, I don;t know how to explain it, it was like I’d known you all along. In the melodies, in the music I would make before you, something would be missing.

“It’s like - I knew you before we met, and I don’t even really know you yet.”

I grab his face and pull him close, pressing my lips against him. 

It’s like I’m holding the world in my hands.

But I still can’t shake the fear. That he’ll go, that he’ll leave me. I can’t hold him tight enough to keep him here.

I’d tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber, just to keep him here.

“Baz.” I whisper, pulling back and pressing my forehead against his. “I, I need you to promise me something.”

He looks at me with bright, curious eyes.

“Listen, I, just -"

“Use your words Simon.”

“Just, say that the wind won’t change on us. Say that we’ll be able to stay like this, stay with each other.”

He brushes his lips against mine.

“I promise to hold you, forever.”

* * *

**\- Normal narration -**

I can see their shadows, holding each other.

God, I’m so glad I found Simon for Baz. It’s what he was missing.

“Summer can’t last forever.”

“Oh joy of all joys, how have you been Agatha -”

I spin around, ready to laugh at her ridiculous frown, but instead she’s holding an hourglass filled with black and red sand. My blood runs cold.

“Where did you get that?”

“Perks of the job.” She taps her ebony nails at the top half of the glass, where the sand is falling faster than ever. “Her time here is almost over.”

“How? It’s barely been a week!”

“King Hades is impatient.”

“Summer can’t last for six weeks, Agatha. Too many would die.”

She sighs, and tips the hourglass upside down, letting what should account for a few more weeks fly back into the top. “But still, time flies when you’re having fun.

“Look at them, happy and in love. Well, winter freezes hearts, Ebeneza, and you can’t stay happy forever when the sun isn’t shining. 

“Just you wait, Ebb. The wind is changing. There’s a storm coming on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is when things actually start to happen, by the way. Plot-related angsty things. And I just spent about three hours re-organising my playlist so I'll project the anger onto the first draft lol.
> 
> I hope this passed for a cute Snowbaz chapter, because I've just realised that I've never actually written one on AO3 before. 
> 
> Well, practice makes perfect...
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	4. Go way down to Hadestown...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The course of true love never did run smooth...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm back! Sorry everyone, I know I'd vanished into the cosmos but I'm back now so yay?

The distraction of wine isn't enough anymore. The shriek of train whistles haunts my dreams, there's an echo of metal scraping on metal throughout every conversation.

He can't be calling her back already. It's too early. He'll break the balance. 

But I guess a god can do as he pleases when it comes to time, especially a god of death who'll reap nothing but reward from an influx of souls brought down to by harsh, out-of-sync winters. 

On the road to hell there was a railroad line…

* * *

“Oh come on! That was not six months!” 

She may be a tad drunk, based on the way her hair sticks to her lips and the wobbling stance she adopts in her indignence, but Lucy stands firm against Micah and Agatha.

Penny stands off to the side. The King below may be her master, but she's never enjoyed doing his bidding. 

“Better go and get your suitcase packed, I guess it's time to go.” Agatha's smile promises chaos as she marches Lucy away, Penny and Micah vanishing in a swirl of black.

The music stops almost immediately. I see Baz looking confused, hands on his lyre. Wine slops to the floor from overturned glasses as tables are forgotten in the stampede of people rushing to follow the action. 

“Ebb!” Simon appears behind me, dazed in the action. “What's going on?”

I can only shake my head. “She's gonna ride that train…”

“Ride that train…” The crowd echoes back. 

“She's gonna ride that train till the end of the line, cause the King of the Mines is coming to call.” I take Simon's arm and pull him towards the station, moving out of the crowd. “Didn't you ever wonder what it's like on the underside?”

“The underside?” He gestures down into the Earth, but I move his hand so it points down the train line. 

“The yonderside, boy. On the other side of his wall.”

Simon still looks confused. I see Baz approach us, listening.

“Follow that dollar for a long way down, far away from the poorhouse door. Cause you either get to hell or to Hadestown, but hey there ain’t no difference anymore!”

“It's way down under the ground.” Baz wraps his arm around Simon's shoulder's. “King Hades rules there, Lucy's husband.”

“Hound dog howl and the whistle blow, train come a-rollin, clickety-clack… Everybody tryin' to get a ticket to go - but those who go they don’t come back.” I stare down the train line, but darkness clouds anything that could have been spotted.

“But, why would you want to go down… there?”

"Ha!” I wheel around to properly face Simon, making sure he can see the almost-crazed look in my eyes. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

Baz looks at me with a question clearly visible in his eyes. But they know enough about the place of shadows and stone, and I'd take Lucy's place before I let either of them go and experience it themselves.

Speaking of…

* * *

She's dressed not in black, like she was last time, but in blood red, with a noose of silence tied around her neck, trailing behind her. A quite literal metaphor. I leave Baz and Simon in the company of the crowd and head over.

She fixes me with a glare. 

“Winter's nigh and summer's o'er, hear that high, lonesome sound? My husband coming for me, ain't that right Ebeneza? To bring me  _ home _ to Hadestown.”

“Perhaps you should lay off the anesthesia.” I hand Penelope the overflowing goblet that's left purple droplets over Lucy's dress. 

“Oh honey.” She smiles, but there's no emotion left in her eyes. “Ain't you been down there? It's a bunch of stiffs! Brother, I'll be bored to death.” She spins her hands together and forms another goblet of clay - a waste if you ask me, especially since it's only filled with crushed grapes.    


“Ebb, I'm gonna have to import some stuff, just to entertain myself! Hey, sister!” Lucy yells into the crowd, addressing a woman holding some kind of herbal remedy. “Give me morphine in a tin, give me a crate of the fruit of the vine. Girl, it takes a lot of medicine to make it through the wintertime.”

“Complain not about your situation, it is, after all, your fault.” Agatha oozes as she walks out of the shadows.

“One third of a pomegranate and I'm stuck with a monster for all eternity. Yeah, seems right.” Lucy bites back.

The low shriek of a train whistle interrupts their squabbling. I can see a few bright, curious eyes among the crowd, and next to me Micah chuckles. He's always enjoyed tempting mortals. 

“Every little penny in the wishing well, every little nickel on the drum…” He moves through the crowd, using smoke to form fake mounds of precious metals under the feet of the crowd. “All them shiny little heads and tails, where do you think they come from? Hadestown, brothers and sisters, way down under the ground.”

“Leave them be, meddler.” Lucy hoists a bag over her shoulder, begging me with her eyes. I sigh, and make my voice heard over the melee.    
“Aye, there might be riches down there, but everybody 's hungry, everybody's tired. Everybody slaves by the sweat of his brow.” 

“The wage is nothing - and the work is hard.” Penelope chimes in. Agatha cuts her a glare. 

“It's a graveyard, in Hadestown.” Lucy says, making her way through the crowd to stand at the edge of the train tracks. 

There's a jazz band, playing in the background (though I suspect not played by humans), and Simon looks like he wants to say something. 

That glint, it's in his eyes too.

“Mr Hades is a mean old boss, Simon.” I say gently, knowing full well that Baz isn't paying attention to anything but the mysterious music of the funeral parade behind us. 

“With a silver whistle.” Lucy drops down on the edge of the track, swinging her legs and waiting. “And a golden scale. He isn't like you and I. My husband believes in an eye for an eye, so he'll weigh your cost. Your soul for sale to his greed.”

The Fates flock to my heels when the screech of steel grows louder, and a shadow approaches from the distance. “You better forget about your wishing well, if you head down there.” Penny says to Simon. 

“Why doesn't the train sing?” Baz mutters from behind me. Simon moves to go to him, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. A boy pulled from the life of looking for the next best thing is bound to feel an appeal towards Hadestown.

The shadow grows, and grows, and then the cars slowly come to a halt. Everyone freezes when the door opens, because they can all see  _ him _ .

* * *

Maybe there was a soul there, a long time ago. But it's gone now, trapped in the tight folds of a clean-pressed suit and tie, the silver pocket watch hanging out of a chest pocket. It left, and in its place a stack of gold grew and grew.

Maybe he wants his soul back, so he tried to steal Lucy's. But then she got lost too, in the drink and oblivion and endless circle of life and death.

I guess we'll never know.

“You're early.” Lucy says; with her hands between her knees, still sitting. A look passes between them, and invisible conversation. 

The King extends his hand to her. “I missed you.”

She smiles, and this time there's sadness. “I didn't, Davy.” She whispers as he pulls her through the carriage door.

There's a change in the air. The music fades. She's gone...

* * *

“Mr Hades is a mighty King.” Penelope sighs.

“Must be making some mighty big deals.” Micah smirks.

“Seems like he owns everything.” Agatha looks at me, and then all three vanish.

Watching their trails of smoke fade away into the wind, I'm so distracted I almost miss Simon's next words.

“Kind of makes you wonder how it feels…”

But the lyre is being played, and the seeds of doubt are being sown, and the train is pulling away.

Along the sides of the railroad, I stand and watch the trees wither and die...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a juicy introduction for our villain, aye?
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	5. There's a storm coming on...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter mainly to set up for the next big thing and give y'all some expo because I forget that not everyone is as obsessed with Hadestown as me ;)
> 
> I made that summary up literally just now sitting on my bed, and I'm pretty proud. Poet and I don't know it and all that bull-crap.
> 
> Enjoy!

There’s still smoke in the air, if you look for it. The faint wisps of unnatural industrialisation, hanging amongst the decaying bark that drops to the floor like petals of lead. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The King of silver, of gold and all that glitters under the ground, he’s bringing oils and coal. Riches that flow through the mud, because you can do it a lot in half a year when there’s nobody holding you back. 

“Ebenza!” I can hear him, running up the road, bare feet well-accustomed to the dirt. The tracks groan, like a warning just before a lightning storm, but I don’t know how to stop what’s coming for them.

“Ebb!” Simon grabs at my arm to stop himself from sliding straight into the tracks, the gentle rain tracing shapes down his face. “I tried to run after the train.”

“Yeah, I know boyo.”

“Wh-What, I don’t understand! How could she just  _ go _ with him?”

“It’s not as though she had a choice.” Baz tips his head towards us, black curls slick across his forehead. With every word, the water is flowing faster, and my mind can’t stop circling like a crown of flowers falling into hell.

“What, because he’s her husband? How did she even stop the trees anyway? It’s not like she’s gone forever.”

“But she’s gone too soon.” I turn to him, trying to bring life back into my gaze. 

“It’s not supposed to be like this.” Baz adds, and I can see what he wants to do, but please, if you’re up there, don’t take this too. 

Simon holds his palm out to the sky. “But it...it’s  _ snowing _ . Ebb, h - how?”

Baz draws his cloak over his face, walking away. “I have to finish the song.”

That boy, he’s got a gift to give.

“Wait, where are you going?”

He’s touched by the God’s.

“I have to finish the song, Simon. It’s the only way to stop this.”

“Oh, well, ok.” Simon looks lost, alone, even though he’s standing next to me. “Well, finish it quick. There’s, there’s a storm…”

“Wind comes up.” Agatha hisses in my ear, blonde hair flying across her face. I wonder if she prefers the cold. 

Simon heads in the opposite direction, rubbing his forehead and muttering something about food and firewood. 

The two of them…

“Hey, Baz, we need some firewood!” He calls out to the retreating figure. 

The poor boy, working on a song.

“Baz! Did you hear me?”

A young man, looking for something to eat.

“Alright.” Simon sighs. “Alright. Finish it.”

All of it, under a gathering storm. With the voices from below making melodies of the machines, singing of the lonely king, cruel and jealous of the sun, fed by doubt, thinking that his wife will stay in the arms of summer and never come home to him, deep in dread that his lover will never return. And so he hides in mortar and bricks, a river of stone, built by millions of hands that aren't his own. 

And there's the smash of a hammer, the creaking of steel, to drown out the sound of the song he once heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to break up the boys, but, erm get ready for more and more and more heartbreak? Just, some forewarning...
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	6. It ain’t natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But this is most foul, strange and unnatural...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, right? But here we are, once again, with a chapter that isn't two paragraphs long. 
> 
> *cheering*
> 
> Enjoy y'all!

The smoke has never choked me like this before.

Of course, going underground, going down, you’re bound to see some smoke. Pass a furnace or two. 

But the air is sticky and thick and so hot it almost burns. The noise of machinery threatens to deafen me, and I can’t see through the mist. 

Hadestown has never been like this before. 

The crowds of workers threaten to crush me as I pass through the stone wall. There’s a smell I’ve never before associated with this place, the kind of stench that works its way through your body and burns every cell it touches. Mixed with the pounding of machinery, I almost fall over when I reach the iron gates of the palace of Hades, right in the middle of the chimneys and factories. 

Does he like the smell? The sound? The neon lights that bounce off cave walls? Does it make him feel powerful?

I can hear Lucy’s voice rising through the clammer, shrill and angry. 

Well, if I wanna keep my head, I guess I gotta keep my head low.

The gates are locked and closed, but I slip through them easily. I’ve been here many times, I know the secrets of Hades’ labyrinth.

When I enter the gardens, another rush of hot air knocks me back for a moment. 

“It’s the coldest time of year!” Lucy yells, throwing her hands into the air as she paces around the fountain where Hades himself perches, empty-faced and emotionless.

“Up there, crops are covered in ice and snow burns the cheeks of every human alive, but if that’s so, then why is it so hot down here? Hotter than a crucible.” She spits on the paving stone on which leather boots rest, attached to man who’s been here so long, I would imagine he’s forgotten his old name. “It ain’t right, it ain’t natural.”

Hades stands, brushing coal dust off his shoulders. He towers over Lucy, dressed all in black, so deep and dark it makes his wife’s blood-red gown seem to glow in all the colours of the rainbow. 

I find myself shivering when Hades reaches down and stroked her cheek with a stained forefinger. “Lover.” He says, in an almost-melodic baritone that I feel in the back of my throat. “You were gone so long, and lover, I was lonesome. I could see you, hear you, up there, so I built a foundry in the ground beneath your feet.”

Lucy shakes him off. “Just leave me alone.” She picks up her gown and tries to walk away, but her monster of a husband pulls her back to him, pushing her down onto the rim of the fountain. 

“Can’t you smell it?” Hades’ smile is the stuff of nightmares, as he gestures around his neon kingdom. “Here, without limit, I fashion things of steel, oil drums, automobiles - and my furnaces? I keep them powered, I keep the smoke billowing out with the fossils of the dead.” He reaches down and cups Lucy’s face with his hands. “Lover, when you feel this fire, you can think of it as my desire. My desire...for  _ you _ .”

Lucy leans in like she’s going to kiss him, then spits on his face. 

Time for me to go. I don’t need to see them together. It’s a never-ending war.

* * *

None of the workers speak to me. They don’t look up. Nobody hums under their breath, no-one is bobbing their head to an imaginary tune. 

This place is stifling. I can’t stay here. 

But when I reach the surface, Simon is there, sitting on the edge of the train station, looking up at the sky. He doesn’t see me, but he’s talking to somebody.

I hope its just himself. Because there are things we can’t see in this world. And they lead us astray.

“We need food.” He mutters, head in his hands. “We need firewood.”

Penelope appears beside him, but Simon doesn’t even blink. He just starts pacing. 

“I - I’m looking high, low, everywhere for the things we need. I’m… I try to keep one eye to the sky, but it was easier to trust in the summer. To trust that the song he’s working on could shelter us from the wind.”

As if on queue, fat droplets of silver, stirred up by the perpetual gale, fall in chaotic patterns, soaking every surface they touch. I start to move, try to get to Simon, but he’s gone before his name even reaches my mouth.

I find myself sitting in the middle of the railroad tracks, rust stuck to my legs and in my hair. There’ll be no trains for six months, or longer, but part of me wishes for mortality, to just leave, leave behind the misery and the smoke and the rain. 

Penelope crosses her legs next to me, holding her cloak above our heads like a blanket. 

“You can’t stop the weather, Ebb.”

“I don’t want to stop the weather.” I sigh. “I just want to help. But how can I help everyone? Baz won’t stop writing, Simon won’t stop trying to live on the most basic level, never experiencing anything, always worrying. Lucy is married to a monster. And I’m nothing more than a guide for dead souls. But when they die, they just get sucked into his factory lines until they fade, becoming power for the industrial engines. And there’s so much smoke. So so much smoke.”

She grimaces. “I can hear them, you know. Hear Lucy. Every time he tries to talk to her, she just protests, saying that Hadestown is too bright, brighter than a carnival. That nothing is right, or natural.”

“Her complaining will do no good, Penny.” I reach over and pull the corners of the cloak down, trying to shield my face from the storm.

I can only imagine what we look like. Two lesser gods, one born of immortals and one made by Death, soaked and empty, like the rain washed away both the dirt and the emotion. 

“He’s mad. Hades is mad. Driven insane by some desire.”

“I know. He electrifies the ground, and the neon burns your eyes it’s so bright. It’s brighter than the light of day.”

And still he claims it’s all for love, I say to myself, because I don’t think Penelope would understand. He says that the lights are his despair, despair for the wife that stopped loving him, the brother that abandoned him below the surface, the workers that sold their souls to him. 

Penny turns to me, but I can’t tell if she’s trying to whisper or trying to avoid Agatha, who just appeared on the platform. “Talk to him, Ebb. Talk to Baz. See of you can reason with him.”

And then she’s gone in a black cloud, and I’m hit with another wave of rain.

* * *

Baz doesn’t register me, when I sit down next to him, folding my jacket under my legs. He just keeps swaying, to some invisible beat that only he can hear. There are pages and pages bursting out of his pockets, notes scrawled in ink. 

“Hey boyo.” I say, snapping him out of his trance. He doesn’t set down his instrument, though, just nods his head towards me. 

I’ve never been good at one-sided conversations. 

“Have you seen the sky recently?” My voice sounds too happy, an emotion foreign to my ears. “You should look up sometimes.”

“I could finish it, Ebb.” Baz says to me, staring through pinched, tired eyes. “But they can’t find the tune.”

“Baz, you -”

“They can’t find the rhythm. They’ll never be able to.

“Baz!”

“King Hades has deafened himself with a river of stone, and his queen is just as trapped, trapped in an oblivion and blinded by a river of wine.”

“Baz, you’re just a-”

“There’s a reason, I have to find the answer to it. To the question of why we’re on this road.”

“You haven’t looked-”

“There’s a reason, I know it. Why the seasons are wrong, why the wind is strong, why times are so hard.”

“Look up!”

“I can’t, Ebb.” His face is so miserable, and I didn’t think he was actually listening. “The gods, this is because of them. Because they’ve forgotten the song of their love.”

The workers still sing, I want to tell him. They still sing, somewhere, deep down. 

But all they know how to say is keep your head low. Oh, you’ve gotta keep your head low. 

* * *

I don’t know how I got back here, wandering the aisles of helmeted souls, some of whom, I’m sure, would still be alive if the world hadn’t gone sideways.

Their silent song fills the air, pushing my head down lower until I can do nought but stare at the floor, pacing up and down the rows like I’m on a loop. 

My father, long-gone to the clouds, isolated in his immortal kingdom, gave me a gift many eons ago. A mirror, scratched and contained in a stained, golden circle, but despite the flaws, it was powerful. Through it, you could see between realms, watch the humans and the dead and everybody in between. 

I guess that this was a gift from the time when everybody assumed I would shut myself away high on a mountain, distant and indifferent.

But I still use it, occasionally. The sight of the sky, however cloudy and grey, makes for a welcome change to the caverns of Hadestown, nights as black as pitch where the only rain is ash and stone. 

Simon’s weather-beaten face appears on the stained screen, bending down by a fallen tree to see if he can scrounge some firewood. They’ll starve before the winter is over like this, everybody will. Maybe that’s what Hades wants; more corpses equals more workers.

After all, it’s hard enough to feed yourself, let alone somebody else. 

I see Agatha approach him, and almost swear out loud. Shit. That girl just wants everybody to be constantly aware that one day they’re going to die and end up down here. 

She bends down, blonde hair whipping round her face, and picks up a few logs - but I’m not fooled. She wants something. Probably to find out where I am. 

“Alright Simon?” Her voice, to somebody who’s known her for a few weeks, sounds light and cheery, but it’s fake to my ears. 

“I’m trying to believe, Agatha.” Simon sighs. “Trying to believe that the song he’s working on is gonna harbour me from the wind.” He tips his face up to the sky. “I need somebody to shelter us. Harbour  _ me _ .”

“Ebeneza?” I startle, turning round to find Lucy in what looks like a shroud, staring at me. “What are you doing here?”

“Sheltering from the rain.” She peers round my shoulder, watching Simon struggle back to the campsite of basic wooden huts with his pile of wood. 

“Why do you care so much?” She raises her eyebrows at me. “It’s just more heartache, and I know he was the son of your friend, and I know this boy is his wife, but they’re both going to wither and die and end up here.” I can smell the wine on her breath.

“I know that, Lucy. But surely they should deserve sunlight and happiness whilst they’re up there in the world of the living. Why do you think I introduced them, made Baz look up from this music? To try and force them both to  _ live _ .”

She shrugs, and takes a swig of wine from a bottle at her side. “Still, I wouldn’t use that down here. If-”

“Ebeneza!” Hades is behind us, arms spread wide. I hide the mirror in the folds of my coat. “It’s been a long time.”

“Indeed, your majesty. Too long.” I bow my head, but Lucy steps in front of me, eyes like daggers. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, Davy?” She growls. “Every year, it’s getting worse in this hell. Did you really think I’d be impressed, with this..this neon necropolis?”

“Lover, everything I do, I do it for the love of you.” He’s still smiling, but it’s fake. And grim. And  _ angry _ .

“Lover.” I can hear the sarcasm in Lucy’s voice. “What have you become? Coal cars, oil drums, all you care about is what you can do behind warehouse walls and under factory floors! I don’t know you anymore…”

I see Hades fingers twitch at his sides. His eyebrows had changed when she called him Davy, the name long-forgotten, but he’s tired, I see it. Tired of losing his wife every time her mother calls.

There’s a menace to his words now, a snarl hidden beneath the surface. “If you don’t want my love, Lucy, I'll give it to someone who does. Someone grateful for her fate, someone who appreciates the comforts of a gilded cage. Someone who doesn't try to fly away the moment Mother Nature calls.”

Lucy scoffs. “Mother Nature is too busy to call for her daughter,  _ lover _ . Because whilst you churn out smoke and rubble, up above the harvest dies and people starve. Because  _ you _ unbalanced the seasons, the oceans rise and overflow.” Her hands fly into the air. “It ain’t right, it ain’t natural!”

Hades looks about to reply, but then his eyes dart over to me. 

Shit. The mirror is catching the light. 

“Ebeneza.” He steps round his wife, shaking with anger, and walks to me, arms outstretched. “My old friend.”

“Leave her alone, Davy.” Lucy groans. “She came to see me, try to cheer me up.”

He ignores her, and stares down at my hands, twisted behind my back. “We’ve known each other a long time, Ebeneza. Long before my exile down here. And surely, surely, you wouldn’t be using a gift from one of my hated brothers in my realm?”

Hades is like a snake. Poisonous and ready to strike. 

And I can see Lucy’s face. Trying to be strong, but afraid. Afraid of the spark of rage that could become a roaring inferno. 

Maybe I’m weak. I don’t know. But I hand the mirror over, wiping the surface of Simon’s face in the brief second before Hades glances in. 

He snarls. “Show me what she sees.”

Oh fuck. 

Hades cocks his head, staring at what I can only assume is Simon in despair. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and I can see some kind of idea form in his head. 

“I thank you, Ebeneza, for showing me this.” He tucks the mirror into the pocket of his suit, and his form begins to go shadowy, like he’s made of smoke. 

Hades leaving his realm? 

“You see, my wife has a problem with staying in her  _ home _ .” His voice begins to echo off the walls. “And maybe, if she sees somebody else, in my embrace, an appreciative songbird in a gilded cage, she might just understand how lucky she is.”

And he’s gone. 

Lucy casts a look of sorrow in my direction, and holds out her wine bottle. But I shake my head, staring up at the sweeping cavern walls that cloak us. 

I can hear Simon’s voice, ringing in my ears. 

_ Harbour me... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be wondering why I made Simon Eurydice not Orpheus (if you know the plot of Hadestown), since it's Ebb and Simon who are close in the books. 
> 
> But Simon gets tricked by Davy, right? 
> 
> Hehe.
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	7. Hey little songbird, cat got your tongue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS FROM SIMONS POINT OF VIEW

** _\- THIS CHAPTER IS FROM SIMONS POINT OF VIEW -_ **

Agatha makes me feel strange, in a way I can’t explain. 

She’s very clearly beautiful, like the sun. But there’s a coldness about her. It makes you remember that she’s immortal. 

Sometimes I wish for immortality. I’ve seen Lucy drink wine, but Penny told me that gods don’t need to eat, or shelter. Some don’t even sleep. 

All my life has been about food and shelter. When the food runs out, you leave. When the shelter collapses, you build a new one, or leave. When you’re in somebody else's home and they either kick you out or find you there because you broke in to sleep in their barn (which I would  _ never _ do), then you run. 

Keep running, keep living. One day at a time. 

But if I was a god, I could have all the wealth in the land. I’d never have to worry about going hungry again. 

Ebeneza told me about Lucy, and her monster husband. Even if they don’t love each other, it shows that gods can marry. 

I’m married…

Some days I forget that. 

It all happened so fast. Meeting Baz. The wedding. And maybe I didn’t really love him at first, I just wanted all the things he promised. But I love him now. 

Trouble is, I don’t know if he loves me back. 

Because he’s never here, to be with me. He always turns away when I approach, thinking he’s some kind of hero who can bring us the spring again. 

I get it, I do. The summer was the first time I felt free. And I want that back. But you can’t write a song to fix the world; I don’t think it’s possible. 

All my life I’ve been surviving but never living. It was Baz and Ebb that showed me not just  _ how _ to live, but how important it was. And now, with him avoiding me and Ebeneza down below, wherever below is, I can’t find it in me to keep trying. 

“Thanks, Agatha, but my hut isn’t far, I can take it from here.” I turn to take the wood from her hands, but she drops the bundle to the floor with a shocked breath of air, eyes widening.

I spin around, half expecting to find some great beast out in the woods, but the trees are full of nothing but shadows.

“What is-” But she’s gone. I can see the black smoke trailing off into the sky. 

Then something makes my heart beat faster. A chill in the air. I keep looking round, as if whatevers here is going to burst out of the trees, but there’s always nothing. 

“Get a grip, Simon.” I mutter, picking up the wood from the floor. This should be enough for a couple days, but I could always-

There’s a man standing in between the trees, wearing a green suit. He stares at me from deep, lined eyes, looking over my tattered clothes and worn face. There’s a golden chain poking out of his breast pocket. 

It’s Hades. The man from the train. 

“I, I…” My feet seem to move by themselves, taking me backwards as the logs fall from my arms. I can’t find it in me to speak. There’s a stench in the air, the sound of machinery filling my ears. 

“H, Hades?” I try to make my voice seem less tinny, but the smell is stuck in my throat. The frost lining everything crunches under the black boots as he walks over to me. 

He’s right up next to me now. I can see all the lines on his face, filled with grey ashes. 

Are they the ashes of the dead?

No, that’s foolish. 

But I can’t make any words come out. 

“Are you afraid, Simon?” Hades asks me, titling his head. Those eyes… it’s like they’re seeing beyond you, beyond time. I feel like he’s talking to my grave, or my dead body.

This - this is the god of death. I’m standing next to the god of death. 

“Why...why are you here?” I manage to squeak out. 

He smiles, and tilts my chin up with his finger. “Little songbird,” The pause must be intentional. There’s a fog in my mind, but I can tell that he’s trying to test me in some way. 

“Give me a song, little songbird. I’m a busy man, and I can’t stay long.”

There’s something holding me in place. Like a tyrant spell that I can’t break from. I don’t know how to describe it; I’ve never been good with words, even in my own head.

“W-what?” I can barely hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears.

Hades stops smiling and turns away from me, putting his hands in his back pockets and staring up at the sky. “I’m a busy man, Simon, and I can’t stay long. I got clients to call, I got orders to fill, I got walls to build, I got riots to quell.” There’s a growl in his voice, like something otherworldly. “And they're giving me hell back in Hades.”

You’re not here for me. You can’t be here for me. I’m nothing. 

Did he call me a songbird? You must be here for Baz, I want to say. You’ve got the wrong spouse.

But the words won’t come out. My tongue feels like lead.

Hades turns back to me, the ghost of a smile perched on his lips. “Cat got your tongue, little songbird? Always a pity for one so pretty and young.”

He walks forward again, lifting up the neckline of my shirt to study the frayed holes and stains. His eyes, dark as pitch, flash over to the logs on the floor, then back to me. “Poverty?”

I manage to nod. 

“It’s clipped your wings, little songbird, and knocked the wind right out of your lungs.” He pokes my stomach. “Ain’t nobody sings on empty.”

Strange is the call of this strange man. Is this what all the gods are like? He doesn’t act like a god, he acts...mortal. And the only other mortal man I’ve met is Baz, who wasn’t the most structured with his proposal, and yet I listened because his intentions were honest. But Hades speaks in strange tongues, talking with rhyme and reason. 

I find myself thinking about how much I want to fly down, and feed at his hand. It would help me survive. And I survive, no matter what. That’s my life. 

I survive, and Baz lives. 

But I just want a nice soft place to land. I just want sleep, food, comfort. And up here, there’s none of that. 

I don’t know what this man wants. For me to go with him? Because I feel drawn, even though he stinks of death. 

God, I just want to lie down forever…

Hades takes my hand and spins me round. I can see images in the air, rippling with all the colours of the underground. Food. Wealth. A bed to sleep on.

He is actually here for me. The god of death is here for  _ me _ . But does he want me to die? Is that what he’s asking?

Hades starts to walk through the forest, and without thinking I follow him. I feel like I’m dancing; like he’s leading me on a waltz. 

There’s so much smoke in my brain. I can’t think clearly. What did they tell me about him? I don’t remember - somebody said monster. Who was the monster? Where am I meant to be going? There’s somebody I have to get back to. He had black hair, he sings. 

Hades leads me into a clearing with silvery light and spins me round once more. His face is so close and I can smell so much death and so much life and so much freedom and so much slavery and so much machinery and so much nature I feel like I’m on fire there’s so much fog in my brain…

“Hey little songbird, you’ve got something fine.” Is he singing? I think he’s singing. There’s a voice like oil in my ears, rich and shining. Black as the night. Black as pitch. 

Pitch. 

Why does that mean something?

I don’t know. I can’t remember. All I remember is surviving. 

Food. Shelter. Water. Food. Shelter. Water. Food. Shelter. Water. Food. Shelter. Water.

“You'd shine like a diamond down in the mine.” Hades whispers in my ear. Is that a ticket? Why is he showing me a ticket? “And the choice is yours if you're willing to choose, seeing as you've got nothing to lose.” He’s right. I have nothing. I’ve never had anything. But isn’t he death? Does he mean I’m signing up to lose the nothing that I’ve got? Does that even make sense?

“I could use a canary.” He growls, a smirk on his face. 

Suddenly nothing is as it was. 

I pull away slightly, tripping over my feet. Remember remember remember 

Remember. 

Baz. Black hair. A song. Pitch. 

Thinking about him breaks the spell. But where is he?

Where are you now, Baz? You promised you’d always be here for me. Wasn’t it gonna be the two of us? Weren’t we birds of a feather? But you promised, and he’s promising too. 

The fog is coming back, but I have to think. You promised me something. Everybody promised me. A woman with grey hair. She said you’d make me feel alive. But I’m fading. The blonde dancer. She promised summer but she left down down down to Hadestown. The three in the cloaks promised pain and wind and rain and storm and they’re the only ones who told me the truth. But you promised me something Baz. 

You promised...yourself to me. 

Baz. Where are you? Please answer me. “Baz.” I think I’m talking. Am I talking? I can’t think straight. 

Hades heard me. I was talking, because he’s raising an eyebrow. “Hey little songbird, let me guess. He’s some kind of poet, and he’s penniless.”

He’s penniless. He’s an artist. He can’t give me food. I need food we all need food Baz where are you now you said you’d hold me forever there’s so much fog in my brain…

“Give him your hand, he'll give you his hand-to-mouth.” Voices in my ear lips next to my ear I can smell death. Hand-to-mouth. I gave him my hand? A wedding song. I married him for a song. But what was our plan? Was there a plan Baz please answer me was there a plan was there a plan?

“He’ll write you a poem when the power is out.” Hades spins me again please stop doing that I can’t think straight I’m trying to think. Power. There’s no power. We need food we need firewood. Why should the power go out? What’s a poem going to do for me please Baz I need you to answer me. I need you with me where are you?

The black eyes are staring at me. I can see gold glowing below the surface. “Why not fly south for the winter?” Somebody asks me. Hades. He’s making my mind foggy fly south I’m a bird hey little songbird what’s wrong with me why am I thinking like this. 

“Please stop.” I whisper, pressing my hands to my forehead but I don’t feel anything why can’t I feel them? There’s smoke. Am I going down? I’m going down I don’t know if I want to go down. 

I can breathe again. 

That’s my hand. I can feel again. Down down down. Maybe down isn’t so bad. Maybe I’ll survive down here. But the smoke clears.

Is that Penelope? I’m still in the woods. 

Breathe. In out in out. I can think again. The fog is gone. I don’t know what just happened to me. I feel sick, like I’m going to pass out. 

Was Hades really here? Where’s Baz? Where’s Ebb? Why is Penelope holding my hand? Am I lying down? There’s something in my left hand, a brown ticket. 

Down. He was going to take me down. Do I want to go? I can’t live down here. I should go. 

Where’s Baz? Maybe if I saw him I’d stop thinking like this. But he’s gone and even though I love him I want to go down. Is that wrong? I’ve always been about survival, and he promised me that I’d be free down there. 

Hey little songbird, I think, look all around you. 

See how the vipers and vultures surround you…

They could take me anytime. Pick me clean. I don’t want to die. But I’ll die up here, in this desperate scene. 

I don’t know what to do...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See why it wouldn't have really made sense to do this from Ebb's point of view? 
> 
> When I was writing this, I thought about it like writing a waltz, which then led me to write them dancing in the chapter, because Davy has all the power and is just leading Simon across the floor. It's one of my favourite relationships in Carry On, even though it's despicable, because it's so intriguing. 
> 
> And even if you're not a musical person, you should really listen to the song that this chapter represents. It's called hey little songbird, and I honestly get chills. 
> 
> Next chapter will be back with Ebb, by the way.
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	8. Cast your eyes to heaven...you get a knife in the back!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you're a literary geek (like myself), you may notice that all of the chapter summaries are quotes from the lord of english literature himself, Shakespeare. Because I love Shakespeare. @ me. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is back to Ebb's point of view
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“He was  _ here _ , Ebb.”

Penelope is holding a glazed-over Simon, squatting on the forest floor. She looks more scared than I’ve ever seen her. 

“Why was he here? Why Simon? I could understand Baz, because of his mother, but what does Simon -”

“Calm down, Penny.” I forgot how much death scared her. The tree roots are forming a circle around us, and the stench of death makes me want to puke. “What happened?”

Before she can answer me, though I have my own suspicions, Simon bolts upright, clutching a slip of paper in his right fist. 

_ No. _

“Simon, wait.” I grab his wrists, but the look in his eyes is one I’ve never seen before. 

He looks hypnotised, By food, wealth, whatever it is that Davy offered him. After all, the prince of darkness is a true gentleman. 

“Whatever Hades told you, Simon, whatever he offered -”

“I don’t remember what he said.” His voice is low. Shy. “But I remember how I felt.”

“You felt like Death. I understand the horrors, Simon -”

“No. I felt at peace.”

And then he walks away, towards the railroad tracks where I know a carriage will be waiting for him. Agatha is beside me in a flash of black smoke, holding me back. 

“You know the songbird will always be eaten by the rattlesnake, Ebeneza.”

“But he doesn’t want this!” I stop myself from slapping her just in time, spinning round to watch them, all three cloaked figures standing in a line. Unmoving. Unforgiving. They might feel, but they never understood. They’d stopped trying so long ago. For one it was too painful. The other didn’t care. And the third, well, he’d forgotten why understanding mattered. 

“Hades promises lies, you know that well as I.” Penelope opens her mouth, but Agatha frowns. 

“Do you  _ really  _ think that you can understand how he feels?” I hate when she talks like this, like she knows suffering. She doesn’t know it, she’s the cause. “Ebeneza, you are a  _ god _ . You can eat, but you do not need to. You can drink, but you do not need to. You are  _ immortal _ . You don’t need to sleep, you don’t need shelter. You can love a thousand people over a thousand different lifetimes, but you will  _ never _ truly know heartbreak or suffering or poverty.”

“What else did you tell him? Once Hades was gone.”

“That life isn’t easy, and life isn’t fair, so you have to fight for your rightful share.” Sometimes I hate Micah more than I hate Agatha. She’s chaos, but he’s cruel and straightforward. He isn’t kind, he doesn’t enjoy torture, he’s just... _ there _ .

“You think I don’t know suffering Agatha?” I clench my fists at my sides. “Unlike you, I  _ care _ for these mortals. And then I have to watch them die and go down over and over and over again. You play with these people like you’re playing poker, and once they lose all their chips you send them to a place  _ worse _ than hell.”

She smiles. “I’m Fate, Ebeneza. A wolf inside your heart. You can’t stop me and you can’t control me. I just tell mortals the truth.”

“The cruel lie, you mean.”

“What’s the point of lying to a flame that will die before it’s barely begun to live?” She steps closer to me. “In this life, you help yourself and to hell with the rest. Even the one who loves you.” Her lips are stretched into the coldest, cruellest smile I’ve ever seen. She  _ wanted _ this to happen. 

To play a game with me? To show me the truth about mortality? I don’t know, but I do know that she’s just ruined at least two lives. 

What the hell am I going to tell Baz?

“Ebb.” Or maybe Penelope is the worst, because you think she cares. “His heart was aching. The pain of being alone. And Hades could stop the pain.”

“Yes, because he could stop his fucking  _ heartbeat _ .” I’ve never really raised my voice at her before, but screw composure. “You tell these mortals to take whatever they can and give only when necessary, but not because you care, oh no. You just want them to die. Die quickly, so you can reap the rewards. So you can cut another lifeline. But have you ever stopped to consider that maybe these people  _ deserve _ some goodness? If they’ll die before their life can begin, shouldn’t we make those brief moments joyous?”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ accuse me of not caring?” She’s angry now too, nails biting into her palms. “I tried to stop him too, you know that. Tried to stop these two from poisoning him even further. But what could I say, Ebeneza? Even Simon knows that if you cast your eyes to heaven, you’ll get a knife in your back!”

“He knows that because he’s forgotten how to hope.” I turn away from them, exasperated. What can I say? They’ll never understand. 

“In this life, Ebb, nobody is righteous when they’ve lost anything.”

“Micah, people can be proud of the little things.”

“Nobody, Ebb,  _ nobody _ is innocent when the chips are down.” With that, they vanish in a cloud of smoke, leaving me to the humans. 

That’s how it’s always been. I must be the only immortal to see them as alive. Just because I can play with them, doesn’t mean I should. I shouldn’t have to be a fighter just because I can throw a -

“Ebb?” It’s Baz, lyre strapped to his back and curls whipping across his forehead in the wind. “Where’s Simon? What’s going on? There’s this terrible smell, and -”

“Come with me.” I can’t speak to him, because I did this. I forced them to meet. And now Baz, who’s been abandoned by everybody, will be abandoned by the boy that  _ I _ made him love. Because I thought I was doing right by him. 

But he has gifts, and he can control the spring with his voice. He can fix things. I should have just left him alone, to save us. But now we’ll be stuck in the winter forever. 

A drunken goddess can’t bring spring. A tyrannical husband will never let his prize leave. A broken boy can’t right all the immortal wrongs. 

We arrive at the train stations. He’s looking at me, and I still can’t tell him. 

“Where’s Simon?” He’s looking at the horizon, where the black smoke is rising and you can hear a shrill train whistle if you listen hard enough. “He...I don’t understand-”

There’s a slip of paper on the platform, written in Simon’s messy scrawl. Baz doesn’t see it; he’s too busy looking into the sky. 

* * *

_ Dear...anyone _

_ I’m sorry. But I have to survive.  _

_ Baz, my heart is yours. I haven’t stopped loving you. That’s not why I’m leaving. My heart always was yours and always will be. But it’s my gut I cannot ignore.  _

_ Baz, I’m so hungry.  _

_ My heart… it aches to stay. But the flesh will have it’s way.  _

_ I’m so sorry. _

_ But I’m already gone _

* * *

Oh god. What have I done?

“Let me see that.” Baz snatches the brown paper from my fingers before I can react, and then his eyes go cloudy - with tears or anger I can’t tell. 

His lyre slips from his grasp. His legs give in. And he falls. Down down down. 

What ironic poetry. 

And I could say it’s his fault. Because he abandoned Simon. He chose his music over his lover. I could lay the blame. Use virtue and sin to blame them both, blame Hades, blame myself, blame this whole miserable world. 

But Agatha’s right. 

Wouldn’t I have done the same, if I were in her shoes?

I can have my principles. But my belly is full, always full. Erst kommt das Fressen, dann kommt die Mora. Food comes first, then morals. Ichor runs through my veins, and pain runs through his. 

There’s no telling what I would do, what  _ anybody _ would do, when hunger has its way. When the chips are down. 

But my god, what am I going to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simon Simon Simon...
> 
> This dumb cinnamon roll.
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	9. I'm coming, wait for me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible

“Simon! Simon!”

“Leave it alone, Baz. He’s gone. He can’t hear you.”

Baz has been screaming down the railroad tracks for the past half hour. The fates left some time ago. 

I’m still holding Simon’s letter. 

This is all my fault. 

I should have known the consequences of bringing anything valuable down to hell. 

“Gods Baz, why do you care?” I finally snap. “You’ll find another muse somewhere.”

He turns to me in anger, but it’s undercut by the tears in his eyes. 

“I have to go down there.” He wrings his hands and starts pacing. “I have to go. I should have heard him…”

“Baz, he’s six-feet-under-the-ground below. He might not have gone in the traditional sense, but it doesn’t matter. For all intents and purposes, Simon is -”

“No.” He snatches the letter from my clutched fist and shreds it. “He isn’t dead. He was taken.”

I rub my forehead with my hand. I’m too tired for this. Maybe Agatha has a point. I should just leave the mortals alone. 

“Just how far would you go for him, Baz?” After all, I don’t think they’ve properly spoken in weeks. “Would you throw your song away? Give up what you were meant to do?”

“I’d go to the end of time Ebb.” He sits cross-legged on the floor, staring down the line. “To the ends of the earth.”

“You got a ticket?”

He looks up at me in confusion. “You got money, Baz? Can you pay the fee to the underworld?”

“No…?”

I snort and sit next to him. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Course, there is another way -”

Baz grabs my hands. “Tell me. I don’t care what I have to face. This is my fault.”

“I ain’t really supposed to say, boy.” There’s another name for me, one you probably won’t have heard of. I’m Psychopompes. The one with feathers on her feet. Leading souls to their final rest. 

“Please, Ebb

“You gotta go round the back. But it isn’t easy walking, Baz. It ain’t for the sensitive soul.” I fix him with a stare. “So, do you really wanna go?”

“With all my heart.” And he means it. I can see the conviction shining around him, like the aura’s that mortals were obsessed with a few centuries ago. 

I think of Simon, kneeling down on a dirt road to embrace life. 

“With all your heart? Well, s’pose that’s a start…”

* * *

“But I already have a coat?”

“Yes, full of holes. The dead don’t need to keep warm, Baz. Walking into Hadestown is like passing by glaciers and rivers of ice.”

Baz frowns up at me, shrugging the heavy brown cloak over his shoulders. “But -”

“Yes, once you get there, it’ll be boiling. Unnaturally warm where it should be frozen. You can ditch the cloak as soon as you arrive.”  _ If _ you arrive, I want to add, but he looks scared enough. 

I steer him onto the railroad tracks. The wind is shrieking around us, and night has already fallen, the stars above a poor imitation of the might of the heavens. I wish I could just summon the train, but that’s like sending a self-portrait and a signed letter telling Hades that there’ll soon be an intruder in his realm wreaking havoc to his make-believe systems of order. 

Death isn’t ordered. How could it be? 

“Right.” I rub my hands together as we near the cave. “How to get to Hadest - are you even listening to me?”

Baz swings his lyre over his back and grins sheepishly at me. “Yep. Go on.”

I roll my eyes. “Remember what I told you?”

“I have to go on foot because I’m broke and don’t want to actually die?”

“Exactly right.” Even from this distance I can smell the putrid smoke swirling through the tunnel. “And you have to take?”

“The long way down, through the underground, under the cover of night.”

I really shouldn’t be doing this. My father would kill me if he found out - well, by kill I mean dissolve me down to particle form and sprinkle me into Chaos like he’s baking a demon cake. 

“Is there anything else I need to know.” Baz is already walking ahead of me, passing into the tunnel. Thank god there’s no block at the entrance. 

“Excuse me? You’re gonna need this.” I hand over a lantern, because the bonelights attached to the left wall every few metres barely reach the edges of the track. “And also me.”

“Wait, you’re coming?” Baz asks, looking actually surprised. 

“Of course.” I match my pace to his and try to ensure that we’re close to the right side of the stone as possible. Why is it always the right? I’ll never understand. 

“Now, you need to make sure you’re layin’ low, stayin’ out of sight.” I can hear whistling, but it’s probably just an echo. “The dead don’t take very kindly to the living. It makes them jealous, to see a heart still pumping.”

Baz nods, and maybe I underestimated him. For a boy so intent on bringing summer, he’s adjusted to the dark. 

Of course, he doesn’t know that my powers are speeding him along, and that we’ve just walked fifteen miles in a minute. If I wasn’t here, it would take him weeks to arrive, and by then it would be too late. 

“There’s isn’t any compass, and there’s no such thing as a map to the land of the dead.”

“Really? Thought it was a nice vacation spot.” He’s trying to sound cheery, but I can see his hands shake as he draws the cloak closer. 

“Baz. This bit’s important.” He turns to me with those piercing grey eyes. “You have to keep walking.”

“That’s the plan, Ebb.”

“No, you  _ have _ to. Keep on walking, and don’t look back.”

I know they’re coming. As much as Penny feels guilty, as much as Agatha doesn’t care about mortals and as much as Micah doesn’t care, they have a job to do. 

Baz takes a deep breath, steeling himself as the shadows grow taller. “I’m coming.” I hear him mutter over and over again. “Wait, I’m coming with you. Wait for me…”

Eventually we reach the end of the bonelights, and I don’t point out to Baz the lost ghosts that he can’t see if he doesn’t know about. The kid has enough to worry about. 

“Right.” Damn it, this is harder than I thought it would be. But the lights are gone and my blonde tangles are starting to stick to my neck. “This is as far as I go.”

“I thought you were… coming all the way.” He looks scared. I don’t blame him. But I can’t go back, not just yet. 

“Remember what I told you Baz. The River Styx is high and wide, because it’s not rushing water, it’s cinder bricks and razor wire.”

“Walls of iron and concrete.” He grimaces.

“But that’s not your biggest problem. There’s hound dogs howling round the gate.” I pass him two parcels wrapped with paper, using the tricks of the Sybil from so long ago as Aeneas was escorted to the underworld. 

He starts to open them, but I raise my hand. “Not yet. Those dogs’ll lay down and play dead if you got the bones, if you got the bread. Only open them when you hear howling, and hopefully it’ll be a distraction. If all else fails, you’ve got your own two legs, and be glad of it.”

“So I have to run from immortal hounds. Sounds fun.” He smiles at me, and all I can think about is what his mum would say. Even though she abandoned him, I doubt she’d approve of my leading her son down the literal mouth of hell.

I used to look so different when I was around her. Golden curls, fancy dresses, never caring about the little humans below. But Natasha hung the moon and found a human. I guess I wanted that. 

He’s already gone by the time I turn back to home, disappearing into the dark. Maybe I should have gone with him. But I don’t want Hades to know this was my doing. Gods are supposed to have duties, after all. 

Maybe they won’t show up. Maybe he’ll make it. 

But the air is thick and heavy and smells of death. I can hear the whispers, in the back of my mind. 

_ Who are you? _

Please just leave him alone. Don’t isolate him. You’ve already done enough. 

_ Where do you think you’re going? _

Oh, he knows. He knows that entering without permission is dangerous. He heard my warnings.

_ Who are you? _

I can practically hear Agatha’s lilting tone in my ears. I know they’re the ones summoning the lost ghosts forwards. Who does this poor boy think he is, doing the impossible and walking to hell?

_ Why are you all alone? _

Because I’m too afraid to follow him. Because I’m already abandoning him, like everybody else, out of fear. 

_ Who do you think you are? _

_ Who are you to think that you can walk a road that no one ever walked before? _

I don’t know why he thinks he can do the impossible. I don’t know why he believes. Even though he doesn’t have centuries of wisdom, even though he doesn’t know the stories about everybody who’s tried and failed this journey, even with help from the gods, he still knows the legends. 

And yet Baz is unafraid. 

I wish I was so brave. 

But here I stand, with a shadow pale and shaking in the lights, too scared of the dark. Like a mortal soul. 

He’s on the lamb, on the run. And I let this happen. I directed him. I told him to never give his name, because he doesn’t have one. Like the heroes of old, like Polyphemus and Odysseus. 

But I don’t know if he heard me. Names hold so much power. If somebody has your name, they can control you. Please Baz, please keep yourself hidden. 

When you’re down there, you can’t look nobody in the eye. You gotta keep your head down low. Hadestown will suck you dry. Take your lifeblood from your veins and you won’t even know it’s happenin’. They’ll suck your brain, they’ll suck your breath. Like Egyptian mummies. Losing your freedom, your voice. That’s what Hadestown does to you.

Baz walks with his heart out on his sleeve. But Hadestown will pluck the heart right out your chest. Wanting to go ‘with all your heart’ means nothing if they take it from you. 

I can hear his voice, even though he’s long gone. The only person I might have ever really called my son, and we don’t even share the same blood. 

Fuck this. I can’t leave him alone. 

By all the gods, wait for me, I’m coming with you. I’m coming, wait for me. 

The workers have been pounding their hammers into stone for so long, they’ve forgotten what it’s like to live. Become indistinguishable from their work. And Simon is just the latest in a long line. 

But as I run down the tunnel, like a woman, not an immortal, I can hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet and I swear, it sounds like drumming. 

There are so many voices,  _ unknown _ voices. Lost souls. Too broken to be shown the way. But I am not alone. I hear the rocks and stones, the workers, the walls, echoing my song. 

Hang on boy. I’m coming.

I’m coming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait For Me is, like, my favourite Hadestown song, so this chapter was hella fun to write
> 
> Also I just realised I did an oops, and kept calling Ebb he because I was copying over lyrics, and obviously Hermes is a man. I'm a donut. Don't hold it against me. 
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	10. My children, my children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell is empty and all devils are here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sparks the beginning of divergence from the Hadestown plot, so everything's changing. yay.

Gods are tricky. 

Some don’t even notice the humans scurrying away beneath the heavens. Little more than fleas on a dogs back, but ones that don’t bite. Why would you bother to befriend a spark, alive and dead in the blink of one immortal eye. 

Others see the humans as mere playthings; to be experimented on, tortured and bent to the whim of the heavens. Those are the tyrants. The ones who derive pleasure from pain. 

And a few can see the humans for what they really are. Better versions of ourselves. 

It took me a long time to see that.

Because immortality makes you numb. And mortality makes you aware. You  _ have _ to survive. You have to eat, drink, shelter, love,  _ live _ \- and you have to do everything quickly, lest you die before you get the chance. 

Immortals don’t need to eat, drink, shelter, love or live. Sure, gods can marry. Some might even fall in love. But when you have eternity, those wedding vows take on a whole new meaning. 

Till death do us part, huh? 

Baz is pacing next to an obsidian wall, towering over both our heads. I’ve been watching him for an hour, seeing if he can get in. But Hades is clever. Nothing is breaching his kingdom. 

I can smell Baz’s humanity down here. The stench of life, mixed with the stink of death. It stands out. 

He  _ breathes _ . Nobody else does. The dead don’t breathe. They don’t eat, drink, shelter, love  _ or _ live. Just a walking corpse - no, a soul without a fleshy cage. 

Baz still doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m back up in the sunshine, or the rain, or whatever torture the weather has planned for today. 

Cavern walls stretching high. A never-ending chasm of hell. 

Some people imagine the Underworld in flames, with a devil whipping sinners into obedience for their sins. 

But Death is clever. Much too clever to use brute force as a means of control. 

“Baz.” I say, and he jumps round, startled. 

“Ebb?” He’s scowling at me. Can’t really blame him. “I thought you’d -”

“Gone back?” I wring my hands, sitting down on the nearest boulder. “No. This is where I should be.”

He still doesn’t smile. 

“I can’t get in. You… you told me this was a back entrance.”

I chuckle, but there’s no humour to it. “Boy, the last time I took this road was a millennia ago. There was no wall then. Everything was different. Apparently security’s gotten tighter over the centuries.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re a goddess.” Baz sighs, collapsing on the floor next to me. 

We both stare up at the wall. It’s so tall, I don’t know where it ends. But I guess ladder collapse isn’t an issue when your workers are already dead. 

“There’s something I don’t understand.” Baz says, turning his face up towards me, all the angles of his jaw cast in shadow. “Is Simon…”

“Dead?” I purse my lips, slipping off the boulder onto the dusty sand next to him. “It’s hard to say, He’s certainly not alive anymore, but he’s not dead yet either.”

“So I could bring him back?”

Please don’t get your hopes up, child. 

But I can’t say that.

“Maybe. If Hades gives you permission. When Simon touches the sunshine, it’s likely he’ll return to life, though I’m not certain, but it’s impossible to get him out of Hadestown without Hades himself knowing.”

“Fucking fantastic.” Baz mutters, head in his hands. I pat his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting gesture.

Trying to comfort the hopeless is like trying to tear down a mighty oak with your bare hands.

“If we could just… see in.” Baz stands, pacing the sandy floor. “Then, well, I don’t know…”

See in?

“That’s actually not a bad idea, Baz.” I rise to my feet, placing my palms flat against cold stone. It’s an odd contrast with the boiling air. 

Surely I should be able to see through the wall? After all, I did help to build it.

Well, in a way. I helped Hades get his kingdom back together. 

I just never imagined this. 

The grooves between slabs begin to blur around my hands, and somehow thinking about those times is working. 

When the gods rolled dice to decide who got to rule the world, nobody knew that my father was cheating. So he took the heavens. 

My uncle got the seas. In my opinion; the best land to rule. I don’t know if  _ he  _ was cheating, but as reward for his ‘honesty’, he gets to relax and eat fish and do whatever he wants, pretty much. 

Hades got the land of the dead. And he  _ definitely _ wasn’t cheating. 

The honest men get mowed down, in this life. 

But I decided to help him. Create barriers. Guide souls. 

If I hadn’t… maybe we wouldn’t be here now. But nobody can know that for certain. 

“Ebb!” Baz shakes my shoulder, pulling me out the memories. 

The wall is still there. I can feel it beneath my fingers. 

Except it sure as hell doesn’t look like it. 

About one meter across, if I had to guess. An entire section of the wall turned to mist. 

“Don’t go rushing through.” I mutter, still in awe that I actually managed to do something useful. “Hades won’t register my touch, but he’ll sure as hell realise you’re here. The stones are still there…”

I trail off, because we’re not seeing the outskirts of Hadestown. 

Hell is structured like a town. The wall is the borderline. Scaffolding surrounds it, then the factories appear. In the centre is Hades’ home. 

We watch him pace his balcony now, as workers stand below. 

“Is this… happening now?” Baz asks, leaning in closer to the picture. 

“I… I honestly don’t know.” It’s not a lie. I never knew I could pass through the wall this way. 

The workers stand in lines, like the slaves they are. Under his complete control. 

“Why do we build the wall?” Hades growls, leaning on the rails of his balcony with one arm gesturing towards us - or, the wall. Where we are. “Why do we build the wall, my children?”

“His  _ children _ ?” Baz shakes his head in disgust. 

But then the workers begin their never-ending song. Voices rising into the air; men, women, everybody’s the same. 

“We build the wall to keep us free!” They call upwards in a disturbing chorus. “That’s why we build the wall… We build the wall to keep us free!”

Like my mother once said to me, in what I assume was meant to be an ironic commentary; War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength. I think she was quoting somebody. 

“How does the wall keep us free?” Hades leers, and I can see a figure standing in the shadows behind him. Lucy? “My children, my children - tell me. How does the wall keep us free?”

“How does the wall keep us free?” The workers echo. I can see Baz flinch behind me, and if I hadn’t seen this little display before then I’d be doing the same. But at least now he can see the control. 

“The wall keeps out the enemy, and we build the wall to keep us free!”

“Why… what are they doing?” Baz looks like he wants to be sick. 

“Control, Baz. He teaches them control. Don’t forget; they’re dead, and Hades is the God of Death.”

“But this is…” He trails off, and I nod, turning back to the smoky scene before us. Hades is pacing again, his voice bouncing round the cavern.

“Who do we call the enemy, my children? Who do we call the enemy?”

“Who do we call the enemy?” I’m starting to pick out individual voices, not that I know who they belong to. “The enemy is poverty, and the wall keeps out the enemy!”

Baz sits back down on the rock, shaking his head. “But… this doesn’t make sense. What is he even doing?”

“To be honest, I don’t really -”

“They’re trying to box out  _ poverty _ ? They’re working so hard, and they don’t even see that they’re boxing themselves in at the same time!”

Huh. Not many people would see that so quickly, at least in words that they could arrange coherently. 

“Because  _ we _ have, and they have not.” Hades is smiling, but it’s twisted. Like his heart. “My children, my children… they want what we have got.”

The workers keep echoing him, though I’m sure they’ve been here so long they think these thoughts are original. It’s easy to forget that you’re a person too, after standing in a factory line for so long. 

Then I hear Baz moan beside me, and it’s such an alien sound that I turn to him in shock, almost letting go

He’s staring past me into the mist, wide-eyed. 

Hades has his arm round Simon, leading him out from the shadows. And the boy is smiling. 

“What do they have that they should want?” Hades smiles, looking more like my father than I’ve ever seen him, and then Simon lets his voice join the chorus. 

“What do we have that they should want? We have a wall to work upon! We have work and they have none -”

“And our work is never done!” Hades throws out his arms, and I hear Baz turn away behind me, stepping back into the shadows. 

“And the war is never won!” Did I do this? Make this madman? Help him get here? How  _ did _ we get here? Fighting an army that can’t be fought, purposefully deceitful, because the King of the Mine depends on poverty for his cheap labour. 

The workers chant, and their leader screams. Fear. Power. Control. Abuse. Persuasion. I know the tricks. I can recognise them. 

The enemy is poverty, and the wall keeps out the enemy…

I take my hands off of the wall, and the obsidian border is back, full force. Baz is behind me, somewhere. Is he crying? I wouldn’t blame him. 

“Hey, Baz.” I purposely turn away, because I know he hates showing his emotions. There’s a quiet sniff behind me.

“I need you to stay here, a’ight? Some powers of death are working on you just by proximity; you won’t need to eat, drink and sleep. I’ll find Lucy, and Simon, then I’ll come back for you.”

“Won’t he catch you?” Baz asks from over my shoulder. I smile. 

“No. Nobody ever notices me, boyo…”

Then I stroll away, heading for the entrance that I alone can slip through. A crack in the wall. 

Dogs howl behind me. I left Baz alone. And this is my decision. To help him. I know there’s no going back from here. 

Dear god, please don’t let this be a sad song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creepy cult chants, am i right?
> 
> Speaking of cults, everybody should go read After The Fire. Great cult book. 
> 
> Well, the cult wasn't great, that's not what I'm saying. Don't join a cult. This has been a friendly neighbourhood PSA
> 
> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	11. It's Our Lady Of The Underground!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be drunk with those that have the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves

ave you ever heard the saying; a lot can happen behind closed doors? 

You’d do well to remember that for this part of our tale. 

Secrets, I’m sure  _ you’re _ thinking. The whispered tales, love affairs - they don’t tend to happen out in the open. 

But here, I’m imagining more of signing away your soul, small acts of rebellion against your tyrant leader. 

* * *

For some reason, Davy permitted his wife to build a tavern, many years ago. There’s no staff, and it’s poorly lit. Damp floors and ceiling. Stains from god-knows-what everywhere. 

And only fill at what passes for evening here, when Lucy goes underground and drinks away her feelings. 

Currently, it’s full; not very loud, but with many a worker passed out over the table, glass half-full and spilling onto the floor. The Summer Lady herself sits on the bar, humming and swaying as she sips - completely lost. I almost don’t want to break the trance. 

“Lucy.” She doesn’t respond. “ _ Lucy _ ”

“Ebeneza,” She slurs, pupils dilated. “What did you do to end up in hell?”

This is no use - she’s half out of her wits. I can see the Fates out of the corner of my eye, sitting at a table. Micah is staring, blank-faced as usual. Penny runs her fingers round the rim of a glass I’m sure she hasn’t drunk from. 

And Agatha?

She’s laughing at me.

“Oh don’t bother her, Ebeneza. Let Lucy drink away all that she knows and loves only to wake up with the same miserable existence tomorrow and let the cycle begin anew.”

“Why are you here, Agatha?”

She stands, half-cast in shadows and despair. “Because you’re trying to disrupt the natural order.”

“Simon didn’t die  _ naturally _ ! He was practically kidnapped.”

“You just want to fix your own mistakes, don’t you, Ebeneza?” She runs a finger through one of my curls. “After all, it was you who brought them together - and I don’t just mean Baz and Simon.”

She’s right. I persuaded Lucy’s immortal mother to give Davy a chance, back when Hades was just a place for the dead and not it’s own kingdom. Look where it got me. 

“Ebenezaaaa.” Lucy slurs again, wrapping a hand around my forearm and pulling me in close. “Welcome to my office!”

“You’re drunk, Lucy.” I try to shake her off, but she’s gripping tightly. “Get it together; I need your help.”

“What are you doing here, hanging around this old manhole six feet under?” She laughs, snorting, and takes another sip before I can knock the cup from her hand. “You look grim, Ebeneza.” She runs a hand down my cheek, and I realise her nails are painted black. “Cabin fever setting in? You could use a little pick-me-up -”

“You can’t give her what she craves, my Lady.” Agatha grins. “Not in your state.”

Lucy whirls around, spilling wine down the front of her dress - not like it’s going to stain the black silk. “Oh really, little girl. I got the wind right here in a jar, I got the rain on tap at the bar - I got sunshine up on the shelf! What’re you bringing?

“Common sense?” Agatha sneers, and Lucy loves, climbing on the bar and yelling in a sing-song voice. God, she’s out of it. “Let me introduce myself!”

Some of the workers stir, but nobody looks her in the eyes. 

“Brother, what’s my name?” “Our Lady Of The Underground!” The workers yell, and I mutter along. A name from a time when she  _ was _ a queen of death, when invoking her name would bring about a curse. Now it just brings about bad memories. 

“See how she calls them brother?” Agatha whispers in my ear, talons on my shoulder as Lucy and the workers continue their drunken song. “She wants them to be her  _ friends _ . Imagine? Mortals, friend with the gods!”

“I’m so offended by your mockery, Agatha.” I try to push through the crowd towards Lucy - I can only do this with her help - but fists are flying and bottles are smashing at my feet. 

“Lucy!” I cup my hands over my mouth, and she finally notices me. 

“Ebeneza!” She yells, acting like she didn’t just see me two minutes ago. “Let me guess; it’s the little things you miss!”

“Spring flowers, autumn leaves!” The workers call back. 

“Well ask me, brother, and you shall receive.” She’s smiling, but she doesn’t look like their saviour - hair wild, eyes glazed. She looks lost. 

“Lucy.” I manage to grab her arm in the chaos, pulling until she looks down at me. “When was the last time you saw the sky?”

“Oh don’t try to sober me up, Ebb.” She yanks her arm back, scowling. “I know how you feel: blinded by sadness - you don’t belong down here.”

“Lucy, I need a crack in the wall!” I yell, half to just get her attention, as foghorns sound and the workers all sigh. 

She blinks. 

“What?” Lucy slurs, cackling. “Oh look, they’re leaving already. Tell my husband to take his time!” She yells, falling back on the bar.

“She can’t help you, Ebb.”

“You don’t know what I want, Micah.” But he goes before I can vanish, up in a cloud of smoke. Agatha smirks, following. 

“Lord, come on Lucy.” I pull her up, trying to separate her from the bottle. “You don’t have to do this.”

“That’s what he said,” She slurs, and I realise that she’s crying. “Back when I believed - in him, in me, in our  _ love _ . Now look at me!” Lucy grabs my chin, staring me dead in the face. “What did I used to be, Ebb? Did you try to stop me? You came to get me. Why didn’t you try harder?”

“I don’t know.”

“He built all of this; the machines, the factories, the  _ noise _ \- all for me. These people enslaved, for  _ me _ . Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wow, great help you are Ebby.” She smiles, resting her head on my shoulder and staring out at the tavern. 

“At least she’s not drinking.” Says a voice behind me, and I jump, letting Lucy flop down onto the bar, snoring softly. 

Penelope smiles at me, hand in her hair and a strange look in her eye. 

“Shouldn’t you be -”

“No. I’m staying.” 

I don’t really know what to say to that. 

Knew she was a good one.

“Well, help me wake her up then.” I mutter, trying to let the gratitude slip into my voice. “I need her.”

“Why?”

I wave my hand half-hardheartedly, and Baz appears in the puddles on the floor of the tavern, staring up at the wall with his head in his hands, humming. He’s running his hands over his lyre, looking too scared to play. 

At least he hasn’t been eaten alive. 

“What’s the boy doing outside of the wall, Ebb?” Lucy rubs her eyes, sitting up and wobbling. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing a mistake.”

“You think you can rescue Simon?”

“No, I know I can.”

“Ebb, you’re a wise woman, but this is foolish -”

“Lucy,” Penny buts in, looking away from the vision and at the Lady of the Underground instead. “Didn’t you used to love Davy?”

“Don’t say that name, Fate.” She mutters, hand gripping the bar as she stands. “Don’t ever say it.”

“Didn’t you give up everything for him?”

She stumbles, looking lost in the memories; being held in a field of flowers, a wedding of death. 

“I’m going to regret this.” Lucy groans, running a hand through her hair.

* * *

Baz blinks up at me in shock, then leaps to his feet.

“Why are you back? Why are you…” He trails off when she sees Penny and Lucy behind me. 

Looking at him through a crack in the wall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x


	12. smol notice

so.

right.

this fic is gonna go on pause for a while.

i have reasons: not feeling the story, a lot on my plate (family stuff, exams) - but its mainly because i have other stories i want to tell more.

i dont wanna delete this completely, because i will come back to it at some point, but for now:

indefinite hiatus.

sorry if you were enjoying this fic, but its not gone forever. ill definitely come back to it, because i hate to leave things unfinished. in the meantime, i do have another carry on fic i actually want to write that should be up soon (should be called With love, from...), so if you really liked my style and also a coherent plot (honestly this fic is a mess i apologise but we can't all be Cath y'know) check that out. check other things out. leave love. dont be a bitch for the sake of it. etc etc.

anyway.

long story short, ill be back, just dont know when.

so until then,  
see ya!  
x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)  
x

**Author's Note:**

> I can promise you all that there will be no chance of a regular update schedule (im a lovely person ;p ) but you won't be waiting for, like, a month. Maybe. Anyway, comments and kudos are appreciated to feed my ego and make my lonely soul feel loved, and you can find me on tumblr so [ say hi :) ](http://scones-and-slushies.tumblr.com/)


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